


you till i die

by dingletragedy



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Five Times, Fluff, Light Angst, Lots of kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 21:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dingletragedy/pseuds/dingletragedy
Summary: Ben would never be able to count all of the times he’s kissed Callum. With the way they can barely keep their hands off each other, he’d be lucky if he could keep track of the number of kisses he gives and receives in just one day, let alone his, their, entire lives. But there are some - five to be specific - kisses in particular that, no matter how many years have passed since, he will never forget.or, five significant kisses over ben and callum's relationship





	you till i die

**Author's Note:**

> not my best by a long shot but i've had this finished for a few days now and i just can't get it right!!! so i gave up and ta da 
> 
> shoutout to my wondeful beta @bobbybeales 
> 
> title from 'don't delete the kisses' - wolf alice

**1.0**

Ben would never be able to count all of the times he’s kissed Callum. With the way they can barely keep their hands off each other, he’d be lucky if he could keep track of the number of kisses he gives and receives in just one day, let alone his, _ their _, entire lives. But there are some - five to be specific - kisses in particular that, no matter how many years have passed since, he will never forget.

The memory of the first time that he kissed Callum is the slightest bit fuzzy around the edges, but he’ll be damned if he ever lets it go. The moment will always be such a defining moment in Ben’s life, but it all felt so oddly calm. Normal, almost, as if him and Callum were always destined to meet under the stars. 

The night was cold, that he’ll always remember, a chill seeping his bones, sinking beneath the leather of his jacket, until - until he was warm. No, not warm, burning - he remembers the fire in his heart, the swell of fuzzy, frantic heat burning from head to toe, settling a warmth in his heart and a buzzing at his fingertips. He remembers the first brush of Callum’s lips against his, hot and seeking, pressing and exploring and tender. Tender yet relentless. _ Burning _.

The fire grew white hot in all the places where his body touched Callum’s - where their chests were touching; hearts too. 

He remembers the way the tree cast their shadows, sheltering them from the square and reality and Callum’s own fears. He remembers what the kiss led to: Callum half hanging off the park bench, legs spread wide and mouth ever wider, gasps and moans swallowed by the night sky as the ground around them shook with the intensity of everything. 

Ben knew it then, with Callum flushed and gasping beneath him, that this couldn’t be just a clumsy, drunk fuck between mates. This was not just for tonight, not just for now. It couldn’t be, not when pressing into Callum had felt the way it did, not when Callum had said his name like a prayer, over and over, muffled between their wet mouths.

It was too late to take it back. And Ben knew, in that moment, that this was the start of something unstoppable. 

_ Ben and Callum. _

_ Callum and Ben. _

_ Forever. _

_ Always. _

**2.0**

Their second kiss happened under completely different circumstances, firstly, there was nothing sweet and tender about it. They were in The Arches, a result of Stuart pulling another of his stunts, and everything was a fucking mess. Watching the turmoil play on Callum’s face was like watching a grass-fire burn out of control. Watching it eat up everything in its path without being able to stop it, except Callum had the matches in his hands this time, and Ben’s fingers were wet with gasoline, and somewhere along the line they’d slipped into a fugue state and burnt it all to the ground without realizing they were the ones to start the fire. 

Callum was confused, afraid and angry - so fucking angry - angry at his brother, angry at Ben, angry at the world; and Ben understood, he did, he just didn’t always say the right things. 

“You’re a coward Callum. That’s all you are. Nothing but a coward.”

“I swear if you call me that again I’ll-”

_ “Coward.” _

Ben remembers the way Callum had crashed into him, grip biting and lips bruising. He remembers the clatter behind him, his Dad’s tools falling to the floor in a graceless manner. He remembers thinking briefly about his Dad, wondering what he’d think about his son chasing pleasure from the man about to get married in his own damn garage, but then Callum had swiped his tongue along Ben’s bottom lip, and suddenly his Dad was the last thing on his mind. 

Ben barely had his mouth open before Callum was pulling away. Lips there one minute and gone the next, but it was most definitely a kiss. The moment was heated, tension-filled, head-spinning, but Ben knew Callum wanted it; meant it. Almost as much as Ben himself. 

All that Ben offered as a response, _a plea,_ was Callum’s name laced through a harsh breath. Yet all he received was a rush of cool air and a slamming door. 

And Ben remembers that kiss with a dash of bitterness, because Callum married Whitney the next day. 

**3.0**

The context was yet again different for the third kiss. Their third kiss took place a week after Callum had come back from his and Whitney’s honeymoon, ten days early, and alone. Callum had arrived on his doorstep, suitcase still in his hand and sleep in his eyes. He remembers how Callum just fell into him, Ben’s arms working on reflex to catch the older boy. He can’t quite remember how long they stood like that in his doorway, long enough for Callum to soak Ben’s shirt through with his tears. Long enough for Ben to calm him with his sudden soothing words, too. 

Pulling back from the embrace, Ben had found Callum gazing at him, gazing _ into _ him, eyes a fraction wider than ever before. Questioning; pleading. Ben was sure his expression portrayed the same: _ What are you doing here Callum? Have you left her Callum? Are you staying the night Callum? _

Their hands gently laced together at the same time, eyes gently fluttered closed.

Ben didn’t have much time to ponder the questions, not when Callum’s lips pressed against his own and the floor fell out from under him. It was firm, the kiss, lips pressing against each other with uncertainty, and yet it was gentle and slow, lips moving like they were trying to remember. Moving in a way that really felt like the beginning of something. It was a long moment before they pulled away, returning to gaze at each other. Ben had found himself breathing a little heavily, and it occurred to him that maybe he hadn’t actually been breathing at all. 

Ben dived back in, couldn’t stop mouthing at him; his jaw, his neck, his lips, holding him so close, like Callum had flicked a fucking switch in his head that turned them both stir crazy. Ben felt that familiar warmth begin to stir in his fingers and in his toes like liquid sunlight and he moved in again before he could convince himself it was a bad idea. Nothing about Callum Highway was _a_ _bad idea_.

Then Ben remembers this seemingly wordless agreement filtering between the two as they stepped inside the Beale’s house - door closing firmly behind them. 

And yeah, Callum stayed the night.

Ben would say that moment pinpoints the start of their relationship. 

**4.0**

Or maybe it was the fourth kiss that signaled the beginning of their relationship - well, not their fourth, more likely their fortieth, but the fourth significant, monumental kiss. 

The fourth occurred about six months after Callum had left Whitney. Six months after Callum had whispered the words “I’m Gay,” into Ben’s ear in the dead of the night. Six weeks after they’d started flat hunting. 

They'd bought this epitome of a shoebox apartment, barely big enough for just the one person to fit in, let alone two. But they knew they’d make it work. They always do.

They stand back and admire their new living space, the books on the shelves, the small sofa and the TV that they saved up for. It looked cozy - it looked like a home. There were no lights on, just the distant warm-orange of the city and the tiniest glow of a street lamp. They’re bathed in silver and deep blue, all soft, blurred edges and grainy texture, like something out of an old photograph, a precious moment captured forever.

Then their lips were pressed gently together, and it meant so much. As hands slip around necks and waists, pulling each other close, Ben remembers thinking to himself that this moment was a new beginning, in a sense. It was the beginning of the newest chapter in their life, the beginning of _BenandCallum. _

Loving together within their home.

_ Their hearts. _

They’d ended up spending the evening in the garden, bodies sprawled across a blanket as the sky darkened around the edges. The night was wonderfully clear, more stars visible than either of them could ever imagine counting. Ben’s love for Callum is like a private constellation, a star growing inside of his belly, bigger and bigger until the light spills out onto his tongue, into the stars. Visible for the world to see. 

They just sat there all night, side by side, content enough to just feel the press, the warmth, of each others bodies. They talked about everything and anything but also nothing at all, their hands gently connected all the while.

Then Callum was facing him, bodies so close that their foreheads connected in the middle. Ben could never pinpoint exactly when that had happened, but it wasn’t too important. What was important was their proximity, the tone of Callum’s voice as he quietly whispers out a ‘I love you’. 

It was all so familiar that Ben almost cried, and the way their lips felt pressed together made him feel as if he had the whole world at his fingertips. 

In that moment, he really did. 

**5.0**

The fifth kiss was ever changing. Well, it’s about to be, considering it's yet to happen. Ben just hopes they actually make it to the kissing point this morning. Really, really hopes. 

His eyes flutter open, and the first thing that he feels is a pair of soft lips pressing against his cheek, gone after a moment and then they return, pressed to his forehead. Ben pretends to be asleep, to reveal in the soft kisses Callum is showering him in, not wanting the moment to end. They end up everywhere along his face, the tip of his nose, his eyelids, his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Everywhere but his lips, the tease. 

With that, he lets his eyes flutter open, and he can’t help but smile at what he‘s met with. Callum is still hovering over him, his eyes still a bit droopy from sleep, and there’s a small smile on his face.

And yeah, Ben really wants to marry this man. 

Everything is soft and hazy under the covers, bedroom like a backyard fire, and Ben doesn’t ever want to leave this bed.  
  
It’s strange because there’s a storm whirling outside the window - light snowflakes bright white against the heavy gray sky - but when Callum smiles down at Ben like he is now, all soft and toothy, Ben’s whole body goes heavy and his heart fills with heat, his head turning into nothing but a bonfire. Those four words splintering at the back of his throat. 

It used to scare Ben, how intensely he feels for Callum, how this boy makes him feel so soft, like his skin is puddy, ready to be taken apart at any given moment. But he’s not afraid anymore, not one bit. 

“I love you.” Callum loops one arm around around Ben’s neck, rocking up to give Ben a slow, slick kiss.

Callum always says it so easily,_ I love you _; effortlessly but with so much care. It’s as if he doesn’t know he’s even saying it, but to Ben it’s like dropping the weight of the world on him, Callum peeling it off with one easy hand. Three easy words. Ben kisses him back then, butterflies fluttering in his belly like they always do when Callum voices tells him those words. “I love you,” Callum repeats, this time on his neck, hands roaming slow and unrestrained along his newly bare skin. Ben’s hand instinctively comes to rest on Callum’s back, holding him in place. 

A combination, perhaps, but Callum’s tender touches and his adoring words and the _yes_ hits him, all at once, leaves hot tears pricking in his eyes. He opens his mouth to respond, to tell Callum he loves him too, whisper the words against his lips, but that’s not what comes out.   
  
“Will you marry me?”   
  
Callum freezes, lips going slack against Ben’s mouth. He pulls away, eyes wide and mouth agape as he stares at Ben. “What?” he asks incredulously.

“Wait - wait I’ve got a ring somewhere,” Ben tumbles out, words a jumbled mess, much like his nerves. 

“Hold on, you’ve got a ring?” 

“Yeah, it’s here somewhere,” Ben says as he routes chaotically through his bedside drawer. “Just give me a sec.” And then, “unless you don’t want to, unless-“

“I do want to.” 

“You do?”

“Of course I do,” Callum whispers, and he sounds so overwhelmed that Ben has to keep his eyes closed.

“Really? Because I mean if not I-“

“Yes.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I’ll marry you,” Callum says with such sincerity Ben has no reason to question him. Instead he takes Callum’s face in his hands, and seals their lips together with a promise of forever. 

A stray tear falls from Callum’s eyelashes and lands on Ben’s cheek, streaking down his face like a dewy tear. Callum brushes it away with his lips, the drag of his mouth barely a kiss, just a gentle touch, to feel. Their lips brush then, but they’re still just breathing, just feeling the warm air settling around them, feeling the warmth of their limbs tangled together.

And finally, when their mouths do meet, when Callum dips towards him and tucks Ben’s bottom lip between his own carefully, all is blessedly quiet, like the world is just for them, just for this moment. Wherever Callum’s hands trail, wherever his fingers spread of curl, Ben follows, fingertips a whisper over the fine bones of Callum’s wrists, holding on, palms encasing.

Being with Callum has been an uphill climb. A hike towards a mountaintop, tumbling rocks knocking them along the way, but the peak always in sight. All the sweat and tears were always worth it, earned; all the aches felt good when they stopped to stretch and take a break, just for themselves. There was much to discover on those winding tracks, something new to unveil at every turn. Something breathtaking at each glance. Up-up-up. Since Callum, Ben’s life has always been on the up. 

And what a sight, what a moment, to reach that peak at half eight on a snowy November morning, to lay there and see that the whole world was theirs. 

Ben can’t wait for more. To tangle their ring clad fingers together and experience thousand sunsets, a thousand cities, a thousand mornings and nights and monuments together.

_ Always, together_ _. _

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @dingletragedy on tumblr, come talk all things ballum with me!!!!!!


End file.
